The Loneliness is Better Near Now
by StephanieIrvine
Summary: Chase the memories away, I know I'm not the same. She felt like an object of desire as she watched herself, smiling as hands grabbed her curves like it was nothing. How fake that smile was. How dirty she felt, she needed to wash herself clean.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, this is the winner of the votes. I'm sorry if it isn't the one you voted for, but I actually enjoyed writing this. I hope you all enjoy it as well. I know the concept isn't exactly original, but I'm trying to make it my own. Remember reviews are love, and make me want to write more. So...review people!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chris or Stephanie, they're their own people. Who they choose to be with is up to them.

**The Loneliness is Better Near Now**

The beat of the music was resonating throughout the club. She could feel the vibrations from the floor surge up and pulsate through her body. The air was so thick she had to gulp to get a breath, but she was used to this. Gulping would give way to quicker breaths and she would be fine. She hadn't worked here for three years, for not to know how to adapt to the environment. Sweat stuck to her and she could feel the droplets that had formed at the back of her neck make a path down her back. The fact she was wearing nothing but a bra and panties should have meant that she was anything but sweating, but the life of a stripper was never anything close to normal.

She'd just finished her routine, a sassy little number where she enticed the audience with the grind of her hips and a tease of her cleavage and now she had to work the floor. And worked it she did, this was how she made double her money, all she had to do was sway her hips, wink and leave a lingering touch as she placed their drinks on the table. Men were easy. She could live with the slaps to her ass as she passed on by, and if anyone got too overly friendly, security would lock a hand around their wrist and show them the exit.

This place was nothing compared to some of the dives she'd worked her way up from. It was classy. Well, as classy as a strip joint got. It still had the flashing neon light in the window and the seedy feel to it, but she knew she wasn't going to get a hand clamped around her mouth and pressed up against a wall in this place. No, she was free from that.

She was taking her time making her way through the tables, lingering where she had the time and smiling as she felt the twenties slip into the waistline of her panties. So, they felt her ass, she got a twenty for that. A fifty if she smiled when they slapped it. She'd learned to fake that smile long ago. She made her way out of the tables that surrounded the stage and she could breathe a little better here, these tables held customers that usually came for the view, were a little less drunk and could look at her in the eye when they ordered a drink, not below where they got a good view.

She felt less sleazy back at these tables.

She stopped before she had to plaster that smile on her face and her eyes slid shut and she moved her neck from side to side. The cracks she heard pleased her, there went a little tension she wouldn't have to worry about at the end of the night.

When her eyes opened, he was staring at her.

The club, like any strip club was dark, so the fact that she could she the cobalt blue of his eyes caused her to falter. Her grip loosened on the tray she was carrying and she missed a step when she started to make her way over to him.

When she finally made it to where she was standing in front of him, she was fine, her bravado was back. "What can I get for you?"

He just looked at her and she looked right back, tapping her fingers against the tray, waiting. Still, he said nothing and she looked at his table, his glass was empty.

"Rules are, you order or you're out."

He still didn't answer and his eyes just bore into her, and they made her want to shiver, but she'd had enough of his silence and shrugged and turned to walk away. She didn't get far before his hand was in hers pulling her to a stop. She was about to inform him that touching wasn't allowed when he spoke.

"I'm Chris."

It was a pretty name, she'd give him that, it went with the eyes, hell she'd admit it, he was all pretty.

"Chris Irvine."

"Well, Mr. Irvine," she began. Always call the customer by their title or don't speak it at all, it was a rule she'd learnt, that way they'd always know that in this hierarchy they called life they would always be higher than a lowly stripper. "Unless you want to be escorted out of here, by force," she commented, throwing a look over to James the head of security and his eyes keenly trained on their joint hands. "I suggest you let me go."

She watched as his gaze follows her gaze and he sees the security.

His hand is gone a second later.

He was looking at her again and she felt her mouth go dry. She tried to swallow, but nope, that was the Sahara right there. This was ridiculous, customers never affected her like this, usually she just faked a laugh at their lame jokes, bit her tongue at the slurs they threw her way and smiled when they told her they wanted to fuck her.

"Order or your out."

"Do you sell coke?"

Stephanie sighed, this was why she moved from joint to joint, she'd dealt with to many coke heads in her time, to want to have to stay where memories of backhands across her face were almost daily and where she had to watch her back when she took breaks, because heaven forbid she take a bathroom break without someone following her and locking the door behind her.

"This ain't this kind of establishment, if you're looking for a gram or two, head down to '_Levesque's', _he's the cheapest on the strip."

Sure this place was classy, but there was still drug money running around in here. She was just glad none of it was allowed in the building.

"Uh, Diet Coke?"

Oh, the soft drink. Wow, how out of the loop was she? Did it say something about her that when someone asked for coke, she automatically thought of the white stuff than the drink?

"I'm sorry Mr. Irvine," she backtracked, when in the wrong do anything to make it right. "It was wrong of me to assume. This drink is on the house."

"It's Chris." He spoke up and his eyes were humorous.

"Mr. Irvine, I can't call you Chris." If anyone heard her even speak a customer's name she would be hauled backstage, trailed up those wooden stairs faster than she could blink and be standing in front of Mr. Stone (Danny when you were in his good books and bringing in enough cash for the club.), like it was the first time all over again. She could feel the grip on her upper arm just thinking about it. She bit her lip and was glad she didn't taste blood. "There's rules."

"Oh."

He looked disappointed, but they always did. Least they have more reality for their late night fantasies, where she was the one calling out their name.

"I'll go get you your drink."

"Wait." He called out as she turned and took a step. It seemed all she seemed to do around this man was turn to walk away and have him pull her back. With those eyes, she honestly didn't mind.

"Yes?"

"Can I call you, your name?"

No one had ever asked her name before. They always gave theirs and with a wink told her she'd be screaming that tonight, some nights she did. But it was more in fear than ecstasy. This man was throwing all her predetermined knowledge about drunks and adulterers for a loop. "I'm Stephanie, and I'll be your waitress tonight."

"I think I'll just call you Stephanie." He threw back, with a lift to the corner of his mouth. She thought it might have been a smirk, but no, it was almost a smile. She gave him an almost smile back, after all she never gave anything away for free. Not that she was paid for anything outside of this business, she stopped at stripper, there were enough evils in this job to handle, she wasn't prepared to handle any that prostitution threw her way. There were some girls in here that did, some for the love of sex, some to pay their drug habit, some both and she always saw their beaten bodies and bruised veins and wondered how anyone could put themselves through that willingly.

"There's no rule against that."

"Good." He spoke quietly while bowing his head.

She thought that endearing.

"Do you work here most nights?"

Thankfully she had a reprieve from this place, where she could walk the streets in jeans and a tee and look like a normal girl finding her way in the world and not some girl who had seen too much to forget.

"Every Tuesday, Thursday and the weekend."

And he was silent again.

She watched as his hands ran across the denim of his jeans, like his palms were sweaty and she wondered if the heat was getting to him like it was still effecting her. She could feel the sweat on her trail down her thighs and cause her clothing stick to her. She could feel eyes on her and she looked around and she could see the glares she was getting for the other girls in the club. She forgot the most basic rule, take an order and move on. She looked down at the ground and closed her eyes and counted to ten and then looked up at the door at the top of the VIP club. Mr. Stone was staring back at her. Shit.

"I'll go get you your drink Mr. Irvine." She muttered as she hurried to the bar.

She didn't notice Chris's lingering look or how afterwards his gaze followed her previous one as he saw what she was looking at. Neither did Mr. Stone. She just made her way to the bar as fast as she could, not even slowing as her ass got the occasional slap or when she got pushed into tables. She just had to finish this order and work the floor.

"Kelly get me a coke." Stephanie bit out. "Diet."

The blond did as she was told and placed the coke on her tray with a napkin. She turned her head planning her way back, the best way to avoid the drunks and the ass grabs, and his table was empty. She left his order on the bar and made her way to his table. There was money on the table to cover his tab, twenty buck too much, and an empty glass sitting next to a napkin. She felt slightly disappointed she didn't get to say goodbye, but if she was disappointed every time someone she liked left, she wouldn't be very good at her job. It didn't happen often, but there was the occasional guy who gave her at least an ounce of respect, and Mr. Irvine had been the occasional guy of that month.

She picked up the money and the empty glass ready to take it back to the bar when she noticed the napkin. She picked it up and her eyes widened as she read:

_'See you Tuesday.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks so much for all your reviews, I was surprised at how well received this was, so if you want to keep on surprising me, keep reviewing. Blatant hint there huh?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chris or Stephanie, they're their own people. Who they choose to be with is up to them.

**Chapter 2**

So, Tuesday rolled around and her shift was pretty easy tonight, she was just working the bar. All she had to do was wipe a rag down it and keep the drinks coming. She didn't have to dance or wait tables. She had the night off from swaying her hips in time to the music and stripping off a layer of clothing that left the men wanting more. She could pretend that these customers were regular Joe's on a break from their life, enjoying a drink with their friends and not undressing her with their eyes.

Bar work was easy compared to dancing. She just had to stand and wait for an order, wink to get a tip and lean forward so they got a better view to entice them back. The more they came back the more tips you got, so she wasn't fussed. Money was money and perv's were perv's.

Perverts with money helped her pay her rent.

Her eyes haven't left the door, she pours a drink and she finds her gaze rising up from the drink and watches as the main door opens and closes with a frequency that's telling of a busy night, but she doesn't expect much. He could have forgotten, she hopes he's forgotten, she doesn't want any more trouble. Mr. Stone's reminder is hidden behind her foundation, after all a girl has to look her best if she's tending bar. But she expects Mr. Irvine is a man who keeps his word, so she watches

It gets busy though and she can't keep an eye on the door and keep up with the amount of orders she's getting her way, so her eyes slip and she focuses on what she gets paid for. She doesn't want another matching eye. She even smiles and winks, but she hasn't got the time to lean forward and show cleavage to bring them back. She hopes they don't come back, that way maybe she could catch a breath. Well, as much breath she could catch in this muggy, smoked filled bar that sticks to her. She tries to wash it off at home, but she feels like she always misses a bit, a silent reminder of her place in the world. She can feel the smoke in her lungs and she coughs, she hopes it won't be the death of her.

The hours pass on by, seven turns to eight and eight doubles to ten and she's glad for that, the customers dwindle and a handful of newcomers line the bar while the regulars line the stage. So long as fifties line their pocket, she'll pour the drink and welcome a tip. She even has time to lean forward and watch as their gaze dips before rising with a smirk, a new order, a twenty sliding across the bar and a _'Keep the change.'_ It never ceases to make her feel dirty. If her family could see her now…well they'd laugh and tell her they knew she'd amount to nothing. Her father was never shy in telling her that, her mother had never been sober enough to tell her anything that made sense and her brother never looked up from sticking his arm long enough to even say hi.

She'd learned early in life you had to fend for yourself or you ended up just another face looking up from a coroners table.

She didn't want to be another statistic.

She stands back, just on the outlines of interacting with customers and having time to herself and cracks her neck to relieve the tension. She does that a lot, cracks her neck and feels the crunch travel down her spine as she stands straight. She even finds herself pushing down on the bar top sometimes and listens to her knuckles crack in quick chase of each other. She knows she'll live to regret it, if she reaches old, but the tension builds in her from when she clocks in until she leaves. It's never really gone when she leaves for the night, but it's a little less she has to deal with when she makes it home, bolts and chains the door behind her and falls onto her bed with a sigh. It's the little things in life she knows to appreciate, and a relieve of tension stops the headaches that come with the fake smiles as she grits her teeth and bites her tongue.

"Hey sweetheart, can I get a top up?" a voice calls out and she looks up into the guy who's had more than enough and doesn't know when to stop.

"You got money to pay for it?"

She watches as his hand slips into his pocket, waits as he rummages around trying to find a bill and watches as he places a ten on the bar. That'll get him two more drink and she sighs, she hopes he turns back around and watches the show and leaves her alone. There's been more than one occasion where they found her a lot more appealing and reached across the bar and grabbed her wrist with promises of riches, so long as she came home with them tonight. This wasn't Pretty Woman and she wasn't a redhead.

He watches as she pours the drink into his glass and before she even has time to pull the bottle up, it's already in his hand on its way up to his mouth as he swivels in his chair to catch the rest of the show. She loves the politeness some of these men have, she thinks with a hint of impatience's. She puts the bottle back up on the shelf and turns and makes he way down the bar, watching to see if anyone else needs a drink, but they all seem to be enraptured with the act on the stage. It's Kelly's night tonight and her Barbie act is a big hit with the crowd, if the blond wasn't so dumb and spent 3/4th of her paycheck on drink and drugs she might actually make it out of this place, but watching her now and noting the glazed look in her eyes, Stephanie already guesses she'd downed a half bottle of vodka and done a couple of lines backstage. Danny was okay with letting his girls take whatever they needed, _'Whatever gets you through the night dolls, jus bring Danny the money in.' _so long as the clienteles didn't bring anything in, he would smile and on the odd occasion slip them a little something for their talent.

He gaze got to the end of the bar and there he was, the only man in the club that was staring at her and not glued to the stage.

She made her way over to him slowly, his eyes on her every step and she bit her lip to keep from gulping. The things he did to her in such a small space of time were unheard of, she _never_ let anyone get to her like this.

"Mr. Irvine." She greeted. She'd like to say she remembered all their names, but there were only a handful of regulars she actually knew the name of and that was only because they'd been coming her year after year. Mr. Irvine wasn't a regular and this was only his second time here, so why did she remember his?

"Stephanie." He nodded and she couldn't tell if he smiled or not, the end of the bar didn't give much light as it was closer to the stage and you couldn't break an atmosphere with bright light that touched upon the harsh reality when they stepped out of this fantasy.

"What can I get you?"

"You got any of the white stuff in?" he joked and she let a soft laugh escape her, for once not having to fake it.

"Regular or diet?"

"I'll stick with the diet, I don't want that rush all at once."

She nodded and turned to the half fridge behind her and took out a can. After pouring it into a glass and adding ice she took it over to him.

"How much do I owe you?"

"It's a buck thirty," she commented, but stopped him as he reached into his pocket. "But since you didn't get your drink last time, this one's on me."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"Yeah," it was, you never bought a customer a drink, they always bought you one and you charged them double. "But no one really misses a soda."

He nodded and took a sip and she watched as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips before he sat the drink back on the coaster. He wasn't much of a talker, she'd noticed that the first time she met him and whereas that had been uncomfortable, this time it wasn't, his eyes were on her, just watching her and she had to duck her head to hide a blush. Not that she expected him to be able to see her blush in the dark light that cloaked them. When she looked back up there was a ghost of a smile on his face and she realized as she felt the upturn at the corner of her mouth, she was mirroring it.

"Is it okay if I talk to you?" he wondered.

She checked the bar one more time and there was no one impatiently waiting on her, so she nodded. "So long as no one comes to the bar and asks for something." She looked at the clock, it was ten minutes to twelve, Kelly had ten minutes till her act finished and the last ten minutes were always the most risqué part of her act that had men shifting in their seats and their grip tighten on the money in their hand. Stephanie made it a rule to keep her clothes on, to leave the men to their imagination, but Kelly didn't have that work ethic. Stephanie wanted to give the girl some credit, that she knew how to work an audience and bring in the big bucks, but more often than not she was out of her face and then the time she wasn't, she was to dumb to think of a plan like that. Stephanie had long ago figured out Kelly was just easy and verged on being a slut with a bad drug habit. "You have about ten minutes before that happens."

"I'll take as many minutes as you can offer."

He really had to stop being a gentleman, she wasn't accustomed to this.

"Are you always this charming?"

"No." he answered and he didn't sugarcoat it or spin it into a lie where he told her he was the most charming man she would ever meet. She liked his honesty. "I'm not all that well versed in conversation anymore."

"You don't seem to be doing to badly at the moment." Stephanie noted as she watched him flex his hands and then pick up his drink and watch as he swirled it, watching as the ice cubes crashed into each other and caused a splash.

"I think you ignite the conversation part of my brain."

What a line. He was original, she'd give him that.

"That's my job."

"No it's not, you don't have to talk to me. I'm pretty sure it's against the rules." He was right it was, but she found herself wanting to talk to him.

"Things are a little easier behind a bar, you can't not talk to a customer." She explained leaning forward against her side of the bar, her arms crossing across her chest. She didn't want him to think she was trying to give him a show and crossing her arms covered up what it could of her cleavage.

"But I'm sure that conversation is limited to, what are you having and can I top that up for you?" she'd give him credit, his eyes didn't move from her face.

"Usually, that's all the want to hear."

"What if I wanted to know more than what ten minutes would let me know?"

She paused at that, because the look in his eyes were so sincere that she wanted to believe that he did, and all singed pointed to the fact that he was being nothing but honest with her. But she'd met honest men before that promised her a good life if she came home with them tonight. The wedding ring on their finger promised that she'd more than likely end up as the other woman that they came too when their wife was to tired in bed that night.

"I'd say sorry and let you know you only had five left."

He nodded at that, like he expected that to be her answer.

"That's fair."

The silence was back again and they were just lost in their stare when she noticed his eyes narrow and his mouth tighten.

"What happened to your eye?"

Okay, so she could add perceptive to his list of endearing qualities. She'd gotten good over the years at hiding the bruises, a grab at the wrist that hurt was hidden by a watch, a knock to the side as she was passing by tables was covered by a full length tee and bruises to her face or her neck were covered by makeup.

"Walked into a door."

He looked at her hard and his hand clenched and she wondered if it was because she'd just lied to him and he knew it or because he had to stop himself from reaching out and placing his hand on top of hers. She'd bet on it being the reaching out because she saw his arm twitch and then pull back.

"I didn't know doors came with fists these days." He commented dryly.

"Perks of the jobs."

His eyes bore into her own and she wanted to look away, hide the shame she felt at letting someone touch her, hide from the pity that she knew would follow, that always followed. She waited, and yes, while the blue in his eyes stayed fiery and intense, no amount of pity for her slipped into his eyes. There was need, but she thought it too soon to tackle that.

"Something tells me, you're too good to be in this job."

Had he just told her he thought of her as something more as a stripper? Not even Danny told the girls that. Mr. Stone let them know that there was nowhere to go after this, it was this or the streets. Most believed him, but Stephanie liked to think she was just waiting to slip out and never return.

The music vibrated through the bar and into her arms and she didn't know if the beating of her heart was the beat of the music or if it was her own heart crashing at a thundering pace. The music died away and the cheers sounded throughout the club and silenced anything she was going to say, but her heart was still frantic.

"Time's up."

He nodded and she watched as men started to stand and make there way towards the bar.

"There's a all-night dinner on the corner."

His eyes clouded in confusion.

"I get off at one. If you wanted to know more than what ten minutes gave you?"

He smiled.

"I'll be there."

So would she.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks so much for all your reviews, I love them a lot, so keep them coming.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chris or Stephanie, they're their own people. Who they choose to be with is up to them. I only own the characters I make up. Which will be a fair few in this story.

**Chapter 3**

The _Dead End Diner_ wasn't so much a run down diner as it was the last stop for drunks looking for a sobering cup of coffee before they headed home to what awaited them, Stephanie didn't know if that was an angry wife or the silence that only a rickety old TV broke. She didn't much care either, so long as they kept to themselves and didn't bother her it was all good. Her feet moved across the sidewalk just outside the dinner, her sneakers much more comfortable than the heels she had to wear for work, as she made it to the door. She'd pushed this door open many nights after her shift and it still amused her that the chains that held the open sign on the door, was broken at one side so it just hung there rattling back and forth with each customer entering or leaving.

She let the door swing shut after her and looked around to see if she could spot Mr. Irvine, she spotted him at the booth in the back and she made her way over to him, noting him straighten up as she drew nearer. She waved to Betty in passing and gave her a smile. Betty was the owner of the diner, she was an old woman and Stephanie guessed her age was around sixty-five. When she'd first ended up in this diner after her first night working at _Penthouse_ she was just looking for a quick cup of coffee to perk her up and a quick bite so she could make it home before she fell to the ground in exhaustion. She'd taken one look at Betty and wonder how in the hell this woman handled all the craziness that wandered in off the street.

She'd soon learned, while sitting at a table not to far away from the serving station, that Betty was the type of person who took no shit from anyone. There'd been a guy who'd come in and Stephanie had thought him shifty with the way he held his coat tight to him and when he pulled a knife from the inside of his coat and demanded all the money in the till, Betty had laughed and advised the man he better leave. Stephanie had almost died of shock when Betty had pulled a sawn-off shotgun out from behind the counter and pointed at the man and listened on as Betty advised the man he could either leave without any money or try and take the money and see how far he got before the bullets were flying through his body. The man had left and Betty had gone back to the order she'd been taking at the time.

She smiled as Mr. Irvine stood as Stephanie finally reached the booth and waited for her to sit before he sat back down.

"Hi." She greeted him as she sat back into the faded red and white leather of the booth that felt cold on the back of her thighs. It was a welcomed change from the overwhelming heat that came with working in the heat. The lights and the mass amount of people mixed and there was barely enough fresh oxygen to breathe in without breathing in the smoke that came from the stage or from lit cigars and cigarettes.

"Hello." He answered and she was nervous, it had been a long time since she'd had the company of a man. The last time she had, he hadn't liked the fact that she'd worked as what she did and had came to watch her performances, the fact he couldn't keep his eyes off of the other girls suggested that she dump him and she had. She didn't have time to be cheated on, she couldn't be doing with the drama. She picked up a napkin off of the table and started playing with it, picking at the corners and tearing it when his gaze got a little bit too intense.

"Have you been waiting long?"

The table didn't look too cluttered, it held the usual ketchup and napkin dispenser with a menu hiding behind it. It was much like the rest of the unoccupied tables, but with the added fact of a glass of water he had ordered. Stephanie watched as a droplet of water made its way down the side of the glass and land on the table. She watched as it pooled around the bottom of the glass and then watched as Mr. Irvine trailed a finger over to the pool of water and dipped it in and left a water path in the wake of his finger. Maybe he was nervous too?

"Not too long no." He answered and when she looked up from her napkin and he looked up from her water their eyes caught each others and she could feel the corners of her lips turn up and she saw his do the same. "But if I had, the wait would have been worth it."

She ducked her head and blushed because there was no cloak of darkness to hide behind, not in this florescent light. "Mr. Irvine, please."

She heard him chuckle and she liked that sound. "I'm almost positive that you can call me Chris in here." He commented lightly, turning his head to the left. "Unless of course the woman behind the counter, who I might add has been watching us since you sat down, has some rule against it."

"I don't think Betty is that strict."

"So, say my name."

There was his eyes again and the blue did not dull in the slightest, if it was possible the seemed to spark. "Chris."

He smiled and she'd admit she liked the way his name fell from her lips. She liked the way her tongue lifted at the start and rolled back when she reached the 'r' and way the 's' slipped across it.

"You don't have to worry about tonight." He commented and she tilted her head in question. "I'll pay."

Oh, he'll pay. She really should have guessed. After all she met him in a strip club, what did she expect, flowers and champagne? She'd just have to add another stereotype to her list, and be a little more careful. She would never be that type of girl, no matter how handsome the man on the other end happened too be. She sighed as her eyes dropped to the table.

"Did I say something wrong?" she heard him ask and when she looked up at him she noted the frown on his face and the straight posture of his back. No, you didn't say anything wrong, you just offered to pay for me tonight is all.

"I'm not that type of girl Mr. Irvine." She spoke up, stressing his name. "I know it may come as a surprise, but I do not have sex for money."

She watched as his eyes widened and watched as his hands dropped onto the table. "Oh no," he rushed out and if he hadn't just insulted her, she would have found it cute. "I meant food." And it was time for her eyes to widen and drop her napkin. "You must be hungry after your shift. I was offering to pay for the food. N-not anything e-else."

She brought a hand up to her face and rubbed it across her forehead. Great, just great, first she assumes he's a drug addict and now she's accusing him of paying for sex. She sighed again, why was she so out of touch when it came to normal men? Okay, the fact the business she worked in clouded her opinions, but she couldn't spot a decent man when he came around? How jaded had she become?

"I'm sorry."

"Stephanie?" he spoke up trying to garner her attention. But she just kept her head down, she couldn't possible look him in the eye. Her head jerked up when she felt him place a hand over her own and she looked over at him in surprise. "It's okay. With the sort of business you're in, that line must be said a lot. And more often than not in the way you assumed it was." His thumb ran across the top of her hand, his touch light and she watch it move back and forth, biting down on her lip to keep from shivering. She hoped he didn't notice the goosebumps that shot up her arm, if he did he didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry Chris, I'm not used too this." Her social retardedness showed that.

"We're all allowed three strikes Stephanie and to me you haven't even used one."

She was about to comment on that and tell him, she must have thrown the whole game with the amount of strikes she'd matched up against him, but Betty rapped her order-pad on the table and caused both of them to jump at the sudden noise.

"A'righty girly whatcha gonna be eating tonight?" her thick accent sounded out and she looked at Stephanie and then over to Chris giving him the once over.

Stephanie laughed as she watched Betty read Chris, the fact that he hadn't ripped his hand away the second someone else interrupted their seclusion seemed to give him points. The fact he was still running his thumb across her hand gave him points from Stephanie as well. "The same as I have every night Betty."

"Stephy girl, one of these days you're going to surprise me and order something other than soup and crackers with a side order of fries and a Pepsi." Betty joked, writing down her order.

"When the time you stop making that soup so good, I'll be sure to surprise you." The first time she'd come her she'd had ten buck in her pocket and all she could afford was soup and crackers. She had treated herself to the fries and Pepsi. She hadn't expected the soup to be so damn good, but she found herself ordering it each and every time she walked in to the diner. The way the flavours assaulted her taste buds was nothing but heaven. It was a garden soup with some thing she'd never even heard of in it, the first time it was sat down in front of her she screwed her face up and wished she had enough money for a burger, but she was so hungry that she'd crushed her cracked into the soup and grabbed her spoon and dove in. She'd never looked back.

Betty turned her gaze to Chris and held his gaze as he looked back at her. He gave her a half smile and Betty beamed back at him. "What can I get you sugar?"

"Cheeseburger, with a side of fries and a glass of milk?"

Betty nodded her head, wrote the order and turned and made her way to the kitchen. "Gimmie thirty." She called over her shoulder.

It was just the two of them again and the silence that usually accompanied them. It was just them and their hands joined together. Stephanie couldn't help but look at them, it was just so soothing. She looked up and saw that Chris was watching them too. She pulled her hand out from under his and he looked up at her, the question as to what she was doing about too fall out of his mouth when he felt the tips of Stephanie's fingertips touch his own and then straightening both their fingers out until their whole hand connected. She looked up and smiled at him when she interlocked their fingers and he smiled a real smile. She was thankful that she was sitting, what with how weak her knees suddenly felt.

"I like your smile." She spoke without thinking, she hadn't meant to say anything, but it just slipped out.

"Well, you give me something to smile about."

She had to wonder how every word out of his mouth made her blush. She wasn't some innocent girl, not by any means, she lost the right to blush at fifteen when the boy next door filled her with drink and she woke up the next morning naked and sick. She was pretty sure that the alcohol wasn't the only think that was making her sick to her stomach. "What's your story?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Why were you in _'Penthouse'_?"

"I hadn't visited it before."

"You make it a habit of visiting strip clubs?" It was meant as a joke, but Chris's face remained the same.

"I've visited a lot in my time. In whatever state I happened to be in, never stuck around though, nothing held my attention." Chris told her honestly. "Until you."

Cue the blush.

"Why do you visit so many?"

"It beats sitting in my hotel all by myself." Chris joked humorously. "At least when I'm surrounded by people, I know I'm not invisible, even if the company is less than stellar."

"I don't think you could ever be invisible." Stephanie told him, her hand tightening in his hand.

He smiled softly at her then and her heart sped up. "I'm glad you see me."

"With those eyes? You're hard to miss."

His smile got a little bit bigger and so did her own.

"Do you know what I hate?" Stephanie asked him.

"Loneliness?"

She looked at him surprised, that was exactly what she hated. "Is it written in my eyes?"

"Yes," Chris let her know looking up and into her eyes. "But they're as lonely as mine."

The plates that held their food hit the table and Stephanie looked up at Betty as she put down the rest of their order. "Enjoy kiddo." Betty told her with a wink and left as suddenly as she arrived. Stephanie looked at the food and the smells hit her and her stomach grumbled, telling her that she needed too eat and she did, she was famished. He forty minute breaks at work didn't give her enough time to eat anything but a quick snack and that hardly appeased her appetite. She picked at a fry and brought it to her mouth and enjoyed the taste of an enjoyable meal.

"I'm going to need my hand back if I'm gonna tackle this burger." Chris told her with a laugh, and she laughed too, his burger was huge and the cheese was seeping out the side and it looked so god Stephanie wondered if Chris would let her have a bite later. "I'm going to have to leave you some of this." He laughed again and she wondered if he could read minds.

"I'll keep that in mind." She winked at him as she released her grip on Chris's hand and pulled it slowly out of his hand. She didn't want to let go, it was so comforting holding it, but food was a two handed job.

They talked as they ate, kept to the basic topics of their likes and dislikes, and Stephanie found out that Chris was executive sales manager in an advertising company, so he got to travel a lot with his work and didn't need to work in an office so long as he had a laptop and a cell phone to contact the office. He wasn't rich by any means, but he lived comfortable. He admitted travelling as much as he did didn't leave much time for friends and over time he'd lost most of his friendships to his work. He told her his mother died when he was a teenager and his father married another woman a year later. Chris didn't care for her, that fact that she was an outright bitch, helped that matter. He didn't visit home often.

Their plates were empty and the light was slowly lightening the sky. Stephanie noticed this and looked around the diner. Betty was in back listening to some game show repeat on TV, and other than a group of girls in the corner, who Stephanie knew were ladies of the night, and some drunks sleeping it off in the seats at the counter, she and Chris were the only occupants. She looked at her watch and was surprised to read that it was four in the morning.

"It's really late."

"Or really early, depending on how you look at it." Chris pointed out with a grin.

"True," Stephanie laughed. "I should be heading home."

His smile dropped but he nodded. "I know, you've had a long night."

"Best night I've had in a long time." She commented and his smile was back.

"Would it be okay if," he began only to pause, his nervousness returning. "If we did this again?"

"I would like that."

They smiled again and stood from the booth. Chris pulled some bills from his pocket and left them on the table. They walked to the door with Chris following behind Stephanie. When they got outside his hand slipped into her own and she looked up to him.

"I'll walk you home."

They started walking.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **So yeah, again I suck at updating O_o, fail much? But I want to thank people so much for all your reviews, they're great and I do love them. Hope you enjoy this chapter, fair warning though, it gets a little bit angsty.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chris or Stephanie, they're their own people. Who they're with and have kids with is their own business. I only own the characters I make up. Which will be a fair few in this story.

**Chapter 4  
**

She rolled over in her bed and pulled the pillow she was lying on with her so it covered her ears. She did not want to be awake, it was way too early to be awake. But, of course the noise from the traffic outside invaded her tiny apartment and sought out her ears and heaven forbid that her neighbour – Ned from upstairs, a skinny man she tried to avoid at all costs, she didn't like the way his eyes stayed on her as she walked away from him – respected her enough to _not_ play his heavy metal music at seven thirty in the freaking morning. Groaning she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the sound, but it was useless, she was awake.

She always had a problem falling back to sleep, she liked the silence and the cover darkness gave her, right now, none of them were available. She threw the pillow she was using to the side and then threw the covers off of her before sitting up and resting against the wall her bed was pushed against. She brought her knees up and rested her head on them and let her eyes slip shut. She liked to take a moment in the morning to get her mind working, for the fog to lift, for reality to begin. She counted it down from five and when she reached one, there was a crash against her wall and then the screaming started. Reality liked to kick her in the face and remind her that she stayed in a shitty, run-down apartment with neighbours that were more than likely seen on '_Police: Most Wanted'._

Maggie and Rick stayed in the apartment next to her. They weren't the worst neighbours she'd had to put up with, it wasn't like she had to double bolt her door and chain it in fear of someone trying to get into her apartment, like she had with Gus. She was just glad Gus had to ditch the apartment and start running from one of the dealer he owed more than he was worth. Maggie and Rick had moved in a week or two later. They weren't so bad or loud if they were high and buzzed with drink, but the arguments started when they sobered up and saw the state of their life. Who aspired to live in a one bedroom flat where the hot water was scarce because the superintendent was so old he could barely lift a hammer? She hoped they found money for a drink soon. She couldn't put up with this for long.

Hugo – the superintendent - couldn't do anything for her he was eighty, but she loved Hugo, he was a sweet old man with a love for lemons and garlic. The smell was always overpowering, but he let her off when she was late with rent and baked her cakes. He'd told her he was a master baker in his time and ran a little bakery in the foothills of the Apennines in Italy. He'd moved to America and ran a successful business here too, but he couldn't afford to pay the protection money that was needed so he'd let it close down and he took up work in this apartment building when he was forty-five. What a wasted dream, Stephanie had thought, but she wasn't exactly living the dream either.

She sighed as she stood up and made her way over to the kitchen, four steps and she was there. Her apartment was open planned, her bed was pushed against the far wall that separated the bathroom from the rest of the apartment, and to the left of her bed there was a old rundown red sofa that acted as the barrier between her bedroom and living room, where she watched TV on her old black and white television. Opposite the bedroom and living room space was the kitchen, the kitchen that was made up of a white fridge, a cooker, some cupboards and a table where she sat and ate her food. This wasn't exactly the place she dreamed of when she was a kid, but her father had told her to stop dreaming, it was only disappointing when you grew up and never got what you wanted. He was right.

She made her way over to her cupboard, her stomach aching in anticipation, she didn't realize she was so hungry. Pulling the cupboard open she pulled out a bowl and a box of cereal - her secret indulgence of life, she could live the rest of her life so long as she had an endless supply of cereal. She tilted the box higher and higher and her face fell when only a few pieces fell out along with the crumbs at the bottom of the box and no one liked the crumbs from the bottom of the box.

She made her way over to her fridge and hoped that there was at least a yoghurt to appease her hunger, but as the door opened she was dismayed to see that the fridge was as empty as her cupboard. There was a sliver of milk left, not nearly enough to coat her cereal.

She really needed to go get food.

As she heard the shouting from next door escalate she decided that there was no time like the present. She couldn't really handle listen to Maggie's screams as Rick's fists smacked her, nor could she bare to listen to Rick's cursing as Maggie raked her nails down Rick's face, she was sure she'd see the aftermath on their bodies at some point.

She went over to the dresser beside her bed - she'd saved two months wages for this thing and it'd lasted her well, the drawers were still solid and she was glad something in her apartment wasn't falling apart - and pulled out a pair of loose fitting jeans and a tank top before heading to the bathroom to get ready. The bathroom didn't really consist of much, just a wash basin, a shower - that's only option was cold between the hours of seven and five am – and a toilet. There were some tiles that were cracked in here and ready to fall off of the wall, a luxury apartment at its best.

She was closing the door behind her when she heard footsteps behind her, turning quickly she came face to face Ned. Oh, this day was just getting better. He was continuously alternating between running his hands down the thighs of his jeans and putting them in his pockets. He was tweaking, she knew that much, his eyes were blood shot and his lips cracked.

"Hey there sexy." His sleazy voice crawled all over her.

"Ned, seriously, is a simple _'Hi'_ too much to ask for?"

"I'll show you a _'Hi'_ and a _'Good morning'_," he leered as his gaze dragged over her body. "Just open that door and we can get started."

"And like every other time you suggest that, I'll go with no."

"You won't get better than me baby." He told her reaching down to grab her hip and pulling her into him. "Admit it."

Her knee was making contact with his crotch before he knew what hit him. As his grip loosened on her, he fell to the floor gasping in pain, Stephanie turned and made her way out of the building.

"You're gonna pay for that you bitch!" was the last thing she heard as he close the door behind her.

As she turned to make her way to the grocery store she ran straight into the chest of someone – a man, she guessed with the broadness of his chest – and was falling back until he caught her.

"Chris." she breathed out as she looked up and saw his eyes staring back at her, looking amused. He smiled down at her as he helped her stand, his grip on her arm gentle and burning. He let his hand slide down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until his fingers were interlocking with her own as they began to walk.

"You crushed my flower." he commented and Stephanie cringed as she looked over at the flattened flower he held in his free hand that had met its death as it was squashed to death between the two.

"I'm sorry." She apologized looking up at him with a sheepish grin.

"Now, I'll just have to pick you another one."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "That was for me?"

"A pretty flower for a pretty girl."

She smiled up at him. "I do like lilies."

"I remember."

She'd told him that last night as he walked her home. She should have known he'd remember. Chris, she was finding out, was the type of man who paid attention to when you spoke and retained that information for future conversations or surprises. She was so unaccustomed to that sort of thing, used to the drugs or money she was offered in return for a night of passion. She always scoffed internally at the word passion, because she doubted it would ever match up to that. She imagined they'd get her to bed, hover over her and thrust until they reached their peak, roll off of her and fall asleep. Passion, at is best.

"Thank you." she spoke quietly, ducking her head and cursed those damn blushes. One of these days she was going to make it a whole day and not blush at something he said to her and then it occurred to her, that it was eight o'clock in the morning and he had been outside her building. She stopped walking and Chris stopped as well when he noticed. "Why were you outside my apartment?"

It was his turn to look down with a hint of red on his cheeks. "Well, I had such a good time last night, that I thought maybe, since it's one of your days off, I could take you out for the day?" he questioned and as his nerves peaked, he continued to ramble, without letting Stephanie get a word in. She thought it cute. "I was about to buzz your apartment, but you beat me to the punch, or I guess I you flattened the flower, before I got the chance."

She laughed at that, and they started walking again, making sure they didn't collide with anyone on their way. The streets were busy and if you weren't careful, you could be thrown to the ground, Stephanie hated to admit it, but it had happened to her on more than one occurrence. She's had cuts on her palms and knees for days afterwards, and people had looked down on her like she was some scum that they couldn't be dealing with. She'd looked down when they'd looked at her like that, not wanting to let them know that she agreed with their assumption.

"I'd love too."

He looked over and she loved that the smile reached his eyes, his eyes always glistened a more vibrant blue when it did. "I'm glad."

"Were you waiting long?" Stephanie wondered. She hoped he hadn't, she hoped he had just been arriving when she had met him on the street.

"I'll admit," Chris told her his tone shy. "I may have been working up the courage to buzz for about thirty minutes."

"The next time you need the courage to buzz, just remember I'll always let you in."

"I'll keep that in mind." Chris replied, and Stephanie felt him squeeze her hand and she smiled up to him. She seemed to be doing that more now. She's pretty sure she's smiled more since first meeting Chris that she had all the months previous to that day. She's glad she had something to smile for in this world. "Where are we heading?"

"I need to buy food." She commented. "The last few nights have been late shifts for me and I've put off going out for the benefit of sleep, but when you run out of the basics, like cereal and milk, you have to brave the world and stock up."

"Well, I shall accompany you and help you back with the bags."

"Such a gentleman." Stephanie joked, but she meant every word.

They walked for a bit more, just talking like they had the night before and Stephanie learned more about Chris. Like he lived eight blocks over and five blocks down from where she stayed. Just beyond the line that separated classy from rundown. Stephanie was willing to bet Chris had a door man and a sign-in desk at his apartment block as well as a superintendent who fixed the water when the chilly mornings just got colder when you hit the water under the shower head and got ice cold water. He also told her he hated his job, but didn't everyone? He said it was so boring, and yes where it gave him freedom and good money, that his passion was for writing, that journalism was his calling in college, but he had lost track of that dream and couldn't quite grasp it anymore. Stephanie was almost certain that Chris's passion was so raw that if he found that dream again, he would attack it with everything he had and even if he was exhausted he would still carry on until he reached the end.

They reached the little grocery store that Stephanie visited weekly. She smiled at Haley, who stood behind the cash register. Haley was fifteen and worked for her parents, who owned the store, on her holidays from school. Stephanie had come in one day and her bag had burst and Haley had helped her pick up her items and then walked with her till they reached her apartment. They'd talked on the way and Stephanie found that Haley was a smart kid living on the wrong side of the tracks. The kid was a tutor at school, and all she wanted was to graduate school and get out of this town. Her dream was Stanford and Stephanie had no doubt that Haley would reach that dream. It was three years away, but it was coming at Haley with such a force, it was going to explode with possibility when the girl got it.

They walked around the store, and Stephanie picked up the essentials she needed and then she hit the cereal aisle, and her grin was big, she'd reached her favorite place. She picked up a box of _'Reese's Puffs', 'Fruity Pebbles' _and _'Fruit Loops'_, her hand itched to reach for a box of _'Fruit Loops'_ with marshmallows in them, but she had to limit herself, the last time she bought them they'd lasted her an hour, after bowl after bowl had made its way to her stomach. She didn't regret it, but she limited herself now.

"Someone likes cereal." Chris commented with a laugh. He wouldn't be surprised if she started stacking up more cereal onto the three she already had, he saw the way she was eyeing the _'Apple Jacks' _and the _'Cinnamon Toast Crunch'_. But she passed them by with a longing look. He kept a note of that, so that he could buy some, so if she ever came over to his apartment he would have something that she liked to eat, in for her.

"It is my Achilles Heel." Stephanie admitted her addiction. Who needed drugs when you had sugar coated cereal that gave you a rush? "If I had the money, I'd buy every single brand of cereal in this aisle."

"That's cute." Chris acknowledged while picking up some milk, that Stephanie couldn't reach with her hands full.

They walked to the checkout and bagged the items and after Stephanie said bye to Haley, they were walking back down the street, Stephanie carrying bags and Chris carrying a bag and a gallon of milk.

They reached her apartment about twenty minutes later, and Chris passed Stephanie over the bag he was carrying as she pushed open the door to the main building.

"So I'll come back in an hour and we can head on out?"

"Yeah, I just need to change and eat." Stephanie told him.

"You look good to me."

"Thank you."

"Go, enjoy your cereal, I'll be back at ten." Chris told her as he started walking backwards away from her.

Stephanie watched him turn and walk away before turning and making her way up the rickety old steps to her apartment on the second floor. She managed to get her keys out of her pocket and the door open without dropping any bags, which she gave a silent cheer for, because that usually never happened. One time she had dropped all the bags she had been carrying, burst open her carton of milk, smashed every one of her eggs and watched as her apples rolled forward and down the stairs. That was ten bucks wasted right there. She shut the door behind her and made her way over to the table and sat the bags down.

She didn't even have time to hear the footsteps make there way across her floor before a hand clamped around her mouth, while the other trapped her arms at her side. She was pushed forward and her entire front was flush against her apartment wall. She felt lips on her neck as they left a trail of kisses up her neck. When they reached her ear a voice she knew too well, whispered, "Admit it."

Ned laughed as Stephanie struggled against him, for a skinny man he had enough strength to keep her where she was. Stephanie was scared shitless, there was no arguing from next door which meant that Maggie and Rick had found something to sedate them for a few days, so even if she managed to scream no one would have heard her. She'd passed by Hugo's office and the man hadn't been there, he was probably sleeping in his apartment that was adjoining to the office. This was worse than anything Gus ever tried.

"I'm going to make you scream." Ned promised as he trailed a hand down to her ass and then she heard him unbuckle his belt. Stephanie was positive she was going to scream, but it was going to be in nothing but fear. She felt her eyes tear up as Ned's fingers found the waistline of her jeans and reach around to unbutton the button that held them up. She bit down on his hand then, to try anything to stop him from doing this for a second longer. He screamed and so did she, she let go a screech for help, but Ned back handed her across the face and Stephanie slid down the wall dazed.

Ned crouched down next to her and reached for the hem of her tank top. "I'm going to make you beg."

Her door flew open and Ned fell back in surprise and Stephanie looked up to see Chris standing in the threshold of her now broken door with a carton of milk lying at his feet. The look of rage on his face was something she'd never seen before and before she could even whisper his name, he'd flew across the room and was on top of Ned and his fist were beating the man over and over again wherever they connected on his body. Stephanie heard Ned beg Chris to stop, but Chris didn't stop until the man below him was coughing up blood.

He gripped Ned's shirt and pulled him up so that they were face to face. "Were you going to stop?"

"I-I was m-man, it was j-just a j-joke." Ned backtracked.

"Bullshit." Chris snapped and brought his fist down and broke Ned's nose.

Chris stood up, pulling the man beneath him with him and then hauled him over to the door and threw him out. Ned hit the wall with a bang and Chris walked out after him and brought a foot in contact with the man's midsection. He leaned into Ned again and told him in no uncertain terms, "If you ever look at her again, I will break your neck."

Chris stood up and walked back into the apartment slamming the door shut behind him. Stephanie looked up as he walked in, the tears streaming down her face, she watched him walk closer and when he reached her, he crouched down and just as he was about to speak she flew into his arms and clung to him, whispering _'Thank you'_ over and over. His hands slid around her back and under her knees and she felt him lift her up and the next thing she knew they were sitting on her sofa, or he was and she was sitting in his lap with her head resting on his chest. They sat like that for a long time, Stephanie just listening to Chris's heart as it beat and Chris running his hand through Stephanie's hair as his other hand gripped her hand.

"Why did you come back?" Stephanie's voice quivered as she asked the question. She didn't care what in the hell made him turn back, she's just glad he had.

"I forgot to give you your milk." Chris whispered. "I couldn't leave you without the nectar to your elixir."

"Thank you." She whispered back as she looked up at him. She brought a hand up and traced his lips with her finger and she watched her finger as it moved and Chris watched her every movement. Her gaze lifted from his lips until she was looking into his eyes and she started to move forward slowly. She was thankful that Chris didn't move, but just waited for her to reach him. Both their eyes slipped shut as she kissed him. It was a slow kiss, one of thanks and promises they had yet to make with each other.

In her whole life, Stephanie had never had such a perfect kiss before.


End file.
